Page 100 of Nixon’s Promise

But he’d been wrong.

His childhood home, the land, the memories, the lessons he’d learned, called to him. Soothed him. Then there was McKenna. She was here and he couldn’t be anywhere but at her side.

So, the new question was, what did he do with the house? Would she want to move across the way and move in with him? Or would she prefer not to uproot Mandy and Zack, and have him go to her? His house was bigger, he had more land and space for her animals. He also had a pond and she wouldn’t have to keep her ducks in a pen with a silly plastic kiddie pool as their source of water.

“I’m gonna run home and make some lunch,” McKenna said, pulling him from his thoughts.

Nix glanced at his watch and was surprised it was coming up on three in the afternoon.

“Take the Kubota or the four-wheeler,” he offered, thinking he really needed to start stocking his fridge so they weren’t always eating out of McKenna’s.

“Okay,” she agreed but didn’t move.

“You forgetting something?” he teased.

“No. But you are.”

Nix’s lips tipped up and he chuckled. “Come here.”

She shook her head and smiled. “Unh-uh, you come here.”

He took the steps needed and tagged her around the waist, pulling her flush to his front. His head tipped down and the moment his lips touched hers, she opened.

Perfect.

He broke the all-too-short kiss and whispered against her lips, “I love you, McKenna.”

“Love you, too, Nix.”

Chasin cut the engine of the riding mower and pulled the hem of his sweat-drenched tee up and wiped his face.

“Goddamn, it’s hot and I’m starving. We cooking here or at Micky’s?” Chasin asked.

Nixon wasn’t sure why the guys had started using McKenna’s nickname, but it made her smile when they did, so he hadn’t corrected them. If he’d had to guess, it was their way of pulling her into the fold and making her feel like she was part of the team. Which she was. A valuable member who had saved their asses.

Tossing the tree branch into the burn pile, Nixon glanced at his watch. “Hey, Zack, has your sister called you?”

“No.”

The hair on the back of Nixon’s neck stood on end and the foreboding was back—tenfold. He pulled his cell out of his back pocket and pulled up her name.

Voicemail.

“I’m headed to McKenna’s,” he told his friend, already jogging to the four-wheeler.

“What’s up?” Chasin called.

“She left over an hour ago to go make lunch.”

“So?”

“She’s not answering her phone.”

“I’ll come with.” Before Nixon could protest, he was on the back of the ATV.

Nix let out a sharp whistle to get Zack’s attention. “I’ll be right back. If McKenna shows, call me.”

“Everything okay?”